


Perfect

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Tumblr requests and imagines [8]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 21:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: It's the night of the airport fight (Civil war), and you and Peter are stealing something more than each other's heart.A.K.A The one where you first meet and you first kiss.





	Perfect

You wouldn’t say you were having the worst day of your life, that was probably the day that psycho of Aldrich Killian kidnapped you and played mad science with you. Or, going farther back, the day those other psychos of Ten Rings had snatched your father in the middle of the dessert and kept him away from you for three months. No, you wouldn’t say it was the worst day of your life, but it was definitely on the top five.

First, your father finally allowed you to wear your suit, yes, but it was to fight the people that until forty-eight hours before had been your family. Then, you had gotten to meet the famous Spider-Man from You Tube, and he was as amazing as you thought he would be, or more, fighting side by side with you and your father, matching the rest of the Avengers in strength and skill and even managing to land a few punches on Steve, while visibly enjoying himself all the time. He was smart, and funny and a total hottie under that mask. So of course you had frozen like a star-struck twelve year old. You hadn’t even been able to speak, and now he probably thought you were some conceited, stuck up brat, too good to talk to the noobie.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, your father had humiliated you by taken you off the battlefield and carting you back to the hotel, with Happy as your babysitter, as if you were a child. Your only consolation was that Spider-Man had gotten the same treatment.

Still, by far the worst thing that happened that day, had been uncle Rhodey’s accident.

You had watched in horror how your dad had been too late to stop him from hitting the ground, unable to do anything yourself because he had deactivated your suit in order to force you out of the fight. He had rode to the hospital with Rhodey but had disappeared afterwards, and you knew that by the time you got your dad back, he was going to be bloodied and bruised.

Not for the first time, you wished he would trust you enough to let you help him, but you weren’t under any delusions: You knew that after what had happened to uncle Rhodey, the chances of Tony letting you tag along on another mission were pretty much zero. 

That also meant that the chances of you and Spider-Man ever crossing paths again were very slim, and with Happy returning you to New York the next morning, your window of opportunity with him was getting closed. So you did the Stark thing to do: You suited up for the battle and went to find Peter Parker.

…

  
Peter Parker was having the best day of his life. First, his childhood hero had brought him to Europe (or, had him brought, but whatever, Mister Stark was a busy man), then he gave him a brand new, awesome suit for him to wear. After that, he got to meet - and fight – The Avengers, and even steal Captain America's shield. The only downside had been that his celebrity crush, y/n Stark, hadn’t even spared him a glance, but he was used to pretty girls being aloof. At least to him.

He was so excited, that not even Happy Hogan's lack of enthusiasm could deter his good mood. Not even when he had demanded him to keep it down twice, and was currently knocking on his door a third time. 

“Sorry, Happy! I promise this time I’ll...” He started apologizing before even opening the door, but the words died in his mouth once he did. Because that wasn’t Happy on the other side.

“Hey, Peter.”

“Mi-miss Stark! Hi!” It wasn’t fair, you thought: you knew you didn’t look that cute when you were nervous. But seeing him getting as flustered at you did wonders to your level of confidence. You smiled, feeling a little more your self.

“It’s y/n” you corrected.

“Y/n, sure” he blushed even harder, and you smiled wider.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Of-of course, miss Stark, y/n! I meant y/n!”, he tripped a little over himself making room for you to step in and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. You immediately headed for his bed, hopping on it because why not.

“So,” You commented casually without stopping to jump, “this is the Spider-cave…”

“I- I guess, I mean” It wasn’t fair, Peter thought. The most accomplished girl of his generation, for not mentioning beautiful, the one whose picture was on his lockscreen, was currently jumping. On his bed. And he was expected to make sense? Ok, he could do this, he just had to say words. Words that went together. Any words.

Why couldn’t he remember any words?

“I’m sure yours is bigger” He meant your room, but you totally miss understood.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not as bouncy” you replied.

“what?”

“What?” You parroted dumbly, pausing your hopping.

“Your room is not as bouncy?” Peter regretted talking as soon as he opened his mouth. What if he had misinterpreted you? What if it was some kind of cool kid's slang and he had just proven how not cool he was? What if-

“No, I meant my bed…”

Of course you were talking about your bed, it was obvious! He was so stupid! Now you were standing there looking at him with a tiny frown on your face, probably thinking he was a complete looser.

And now it was awkward. God, why was he such a-

“Why are you on your pajamas?”

Your question took him by surprise. He took in your black shorts and sheer blue top. Wow. Just… wow.

“… Why aren’t you?”

“It’s like, six o'clock” You explained with a shrug, “Dad said it was your first time in Berlin, I was thinking you’d might like to go out, do a little sight seeing…”

“Actually I already saw the city yesterday” Peter wanted to punch himself: What was wrong with him? Y/n Stark had just basically asked him out and he had rejected her. And now you looked disappointed. Like, for real, for _him_. 

However, as he was later going to learn, you weren’t the type to give up easily.

“But this isn’t just your first time in Berlin, is it? It’s your first time in Europe, period. Isn’t it?” you checked.

“It is” He confirmed, “Why?”

A mischievous grin, so much like your father’s, started to slowly grow on your face.

“I just had the craziest idea…”

…

  
You weren’t like this. You weren’t wild, you weren’t reckless, that was a Stark gene you seemed to lack. Until now, cause there was something about Peter Parker, about his wide eyed gaze, his childlike enthusiasm, that made you feel adventurous and fearless. And if you were completely honest with yourself, you wanted to impress him.

You wanted to blow his mind.

… God, you were in so much trouble.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing it, this is insane!”

“You can still back out if you want, it’s not too late” But as you said the words you knew it was a lie, it was already too late. Because you could see reflected in Peter’s big brown eyes the same madness that seemed to have overtook you. He wasn’t backing up, not for anything.

He was about to open his mouth to reply when a soft tap on the car window interrupted him.

“Miss Stark, everything is ready, you have permission to land in Charles de Gaulle in forty minutes”

“Danke sehr aufmerksam, herr Müller” You turned to Peter, “What do you say, Spider-Man? Wanna go for a joyride?”

Stealing a plane and flying away to another country turned out to be not as big of a deal as Peter had imagined. If anything, it was a little anticlimactic how minimal was the effort you both had to do with a self-flown jet and the Stark last name opening borders and clearing landing tracks for you. Still, it didn’t stopped his heart from beating hard inside his chest the whole time.

Or maybe that was just you and the effect you had on him, running hand in hand through the airport, trying to get away from the bunch of paparazzi that caught wind of the Stark jet landing there. It was exhilarating. You were exhilarating.

… He was in so much trouble.

“We need a cab” Peter announced once outside de airport, without slowing down, the paparazzi hot on your heels.

“There’s no way we’ll be able to loose them in a car, we need something faster” You pointed out, way more experienced in being hunted by the press.

“There, look!” He gestured at an impressive looking motorcycle that was just pulling up a few yards ahead.

“A Livewire! You have taste, Parker”

A pleased little blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” He mumbled.

“Excusez-moi, monsieur!” You started, but the guy on the Harley interrupted you.

“Dude, I’m from L.A.” He chuckled, “And you are y/n Stark! This is so awesome, can I get a selfie?”

“Sure, can we get a ride?” You smiled sweetly at the camera.

“Sorry, guys, I’m here to pick up my son, his flight is delayed, he’s gonna flip when he sees you were here and he missed it…” He seemed genuinely sorry.

“Could we, like borrow your bike, then?”

The guy hesitated,

“Well, I mean, you look like cool kids and all but…”

“Here, you can have my watch as a guarantee you’ll get it back” you took your watch off your wrist and placed it on his open palm, “We’ll send you the location of the bike once we’re done, and maybe we could get another selfie with your son when you come pick it up…”

There wasn’t much time left, with the first photographers already coming out the doors. Luckily the bike guy caved in.

“Is this a Stark watch? These are worth like, a hundred thousand…”

“Couple hundreds, actually” You corrected, “special edition and all that”

“Ok, Take it!” The guy said, seeing the paparazzi closing in.

“Thanks!”

“Thank you so much! We’ll promise to give it back in one piece!” Peter yelled back as you both were riding away, with his hands firm on the handle, loving the feeling of your warm form draped around his back and the wind on his face. It was almost like swinging on his webs at breakneck speed, maybe even better, cause your arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Ever did this before?” you asked, raising your voice above the howling of the wind.

“I drove my friend's Ned scooter once” He replied, honestly “and I have super fast reflexes, how hard can this be?”

“Oh my God, we’re going to die!!” You groaned into his jeans cladded shoulder.

“Don’t worry, miss Stark, I won’t let anything happen to you” He promised, speeding down the A1 under the pink sunset. And if your heart melted a little right then and there, well, no one really needed to know.

“Whoa! That is amazing!” Peter bursted out in awe as soon as you reached Avenue Foch and the Arc de Triomphe appeared into view.

“Ok, pull over there, it’s time to ditch the bike” you decided.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely, this city is full of beautiful things at every corner, we might miss some if we go too fast” You loved Paris, and for some reason, you wanted Peter to fall in love with it too. You couldn’t really put your finger on why it was so important to you, but you needed him to see it the same way that you did, with all it’s beauty and quirks, with all it’s flaws (because there were flaws, like the rats or the outdated subway system), you didn’t want Peter to just have the narrow tourist view, with only the golden statues, the museums and the clichés.

You were going to give Peter the full experience.

He webbed the Harley to the front windows of a Bowling alley and you sent the coordinates to your own watch for the cool guy from the airport to pick it up.

“We are in Paris! This is the wildest, craziest thing ever! Crazier than stealing Cap's shield! I mean, I-…”

“Peter? What are you doing?”

Peter lowered his cellphone and turned to face you,

“I- I was… it’s just- I've been making this video of the trip so far and I thought…” He explained, sheepishly.

“Cool, can I be on it?”

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting at all.

“Ye-yeah, sure” He turned the phone so the camera was pointing at you.

“We are in Paris with y/n!” He started over, “This is the craziest shit! I’m in the city of lights with the Queen S herself! Say 'Hi', your highness!”

It was amazing how the hated nickname the press had given you suddenly sounded so much sweeter from Peter’s lips. You smiled big and bright for his camera and did a little wave, and it was the cutest thing Peter had ever seen in his life. Chubby pandas and sneezing kittens had nothing on you.

“Where to now?”

“Tuileries Garden, of course” You said without missing a beat, “but we gotta hurry, it'll be closing time soon!”

Peter Parker had superhuman strength, you knew that, you had seen him stop a bus with his bare hands, witnessed him stopping a punch from the winter soldier himself. Yet he let you dragged him by the hand all across the Champs-Elysees. You weren’t sure what that meant, but it made you feel warm inside.

He, on the other hand, knew exactly what it meant. Because he would have let you do anything you wanted with him. Because he had known you for less than twenty-four hours, and you already had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oh, no!” Your disappointment at finally arriving at the garden gates only to find them closed pulled at something inside of him. Those sad eyes and pouty lips ought to be illegal. He wondered idly what it would be like to bite that protruding bottom lip, to kiss the pout away. He chastised himself mentally, you were obviously upset, it was not the time for those kind of thoughts. You had your heart set on that garden, and he was just a middle class kid from Queens, there wasn’t much he could give to one of the richest girls in the world, but he could give you this.

“I think I might have an idea”

You turned to him with hopeful eyes,  
“You do?”

“Yeah, but…” He hesitated, “we would have to- I mean you would have to let me, like…” He gestured awkwardly at your torso, his face reddening quickly.

“What?”

“Look, just… Do you trust me?” He finally asked.

“Of course” came your immediate reply.

“Ok. I’m just going to…” He took a step towards you, and very slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away or stop him, he wrapped an arm firmly around your waist.

You had never been this close to him before, well, no, that was a lie, you had been really close to him on the bike but somehow this felt different. Your face ended up on the crook of his neck and you breathed him in: Fabric softener with a hint of axe deodorant and chemicals, probably from his web fluid, and underneath all that, something else, spicy, like cinnamon. Something purely Peter.  
Your warm breath on his neck sent shivers down his spine and he had to take a few seconds to gather himself enough to be sure his voice wouldn’t tremble before he said,

“Now wrap your arms and legs around me”

“What??” You squeaked, to your embarrassment.

“You said you trusted me”

“I- I do” You locked your arms around his shoulders and, with a little jump, your legs around his waist. Then, the world blurred out around you. One second, you both were standing on the ground, the next, you were flying through the air at the speed of light. And another one after that, you were landing surprisingly softly at the other side of the tall fence, effectively entering the gardens.

“Oh my god, that was awesome!”

“I’ve seen you literally flying,” Peter pointed out, “this was just a jump, definitely not as cool”

“Yeah, but like, in full armor and helmet. I never get to feel the wind on my face and shit…”

“y/n? You can let go now” Peter regretted his words as soon as you let go of him and took a step back, taking your warmth and sweet perfume with you. He tried to cover his disappointment up.

“So, what’s so special about this garden anyway?”

You kept pointing at different flowers and sculptures for him to see and film, but more often than not, Peter found himself looking at you instead of them, far more fascinated by you. Far more interested in capturing the sparkle in your eyes anytime you saw something beautiful, or the way your skin seemed to almost glow under the fading light of the blue twilight, than in any fountain or plant.

It was a beautiful park, there was no denying it, like some enchanted wonderland out of a fairly tale. But he suspected it would probably loose most of it’s magic without it’s bewitching princess walking amongst it’s flowers, telling stories about the Medici and revolutions.

“… and of course, there’s the Ferris wheel. Do you think we can turn it on? I mean, it’s going to attract attention so we’ll probably won’t get a lot of time on it” You turned to find him staring at you through his cellphone camera, a soft look you didn’t dare to name on his face. “Pete, are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, yes, of course, I was just-…”

“Vous, arrete vous!”

“Shit! We better run!”

The security guard was fast. Definitely not as fast as Peter but way to fast for you, so Peter ended up carrying you in his arms bridal style even after jumping the fence, because there were a couple of guards waiting for you out there too.

“Look! That must be the Seine!” He exclaimed joyfully once you reached the riverside.

“It is!” You confirmed, holding onto him for dear life as he raced towards the water.

“Uncle Ben used to take me fishing when I was little,” He commented casually as he came to a halt right next to a small boat tied to an even smaller dock. He deposited you carefully on it, and jumped in himself, immediately getting into the task of starting up the little outboard motor.

“Are we stealing a boat now?” You snorted inelegantly.

“Borrowing it,” He corrected, finally sailing away from the shore and the guards yelling at you angrily on it. “We are borrowing it. And I don’t see why not, we already borrowed a plane and a motorcycle…” He shrugged.

“I guess we are literally partners in crime, huh?”

“I still can believe it,” He confessed, shaking his head, “I mean, up until like three hours ago I thought you didn’t like me”

You lowered your eyes in shame.

“I know, sorry 'bout that” It was your turn to make a little confession, “I know I was a total bitch to you at the airport, it’s just… I was kind of nervous about meeting you and I-…”

“Wait, what?” Peter Parker looked like a confused puppy, and you knew he would not appreciate the comparison but to you it was the cutest shit you had ever seen. “_You_ were nervous about meeting _me_? Why?”

“Because,” You explained, “You are Spider-Man, you stopped a car from hitting a bus full of people with one hand, that’s kind of amazing”

_You are kind of amazing_, you were too much of a coward to say out loud.

“You saw my videos?”

You rolled your eyes,

“Well, duh! Who do you think showed them to my dad?”

Peter was speechless: You weren’t just the reason he was in Paris: You were the reason he was in Europe at all, the reason Tony Stark had seek him out, and offered him the “internship”. He knew after this trip his life was going to change forever and it was all because of you.

It was all thanks to you, and he didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Now, see that bridge over there? That’s Pont des Invalides, nothing special about it, there’s hundreds of bridges in this city,” You continued to talk, completely oblivious to his little epiphany, “but once we reach it we’ll be able to see…”

“The Eiffel tower!” Apparently he had already spotted it.

By the time you finally reached Pont d'lena and we’re able to leave the boat, Peter was almost vibrating with excitement.

“There’s a merry go round!”

“A carousel, actually.” You corrected.

“What’s the difference?” Peter asked, confused. His little frown was adorable.

“Merry go rounds are for children. Carousels are for sophisticated young adults visiting Paris on their own for the first time!” You said before jumping into it before it even stopped moving, what earned you a few dirty looks from a couple of locals that were there with their children, but Peter was laughing as he jumped behind you, so it was all worth it.

“This has to be the prettiest merry go round I had ever took a ride on…”

“Carousel,” you rectified again “but, yeah, everything is prettier in Paris.” You sighed.

“Except you”

Your mouth fell open in mock indignation,  
“Peter Parker, you take that back!”

“No- that’s not-… I mean, I didn’t- I wasn’t…”  
He took a deep breath to pull himself together.  
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted to say that you always look beautiful, no matter the city you are in…”

You looked away to hide your blush.

“Well… you probably should have started with that” you said as nonchalantly as you managed. The carousel finally stopped moving.

“Now what?” Questioned Peter once you got off of the ride.  
“Now we go see the tower, after that… we'll probably have to take the subway, so we can go all the way to Montparnasse to see the Catacombs. Oh, and dinner! I know the best kebab place in the city" You decided. He didn’t looked that convinced, though.

“The catacombs? At night? Won’t that be like, really creepy?”

“That’s the whole point! Besides,” you finished, looping your arm around his “I’ve got Spider-Man to protect me from anything evil that might be lurking down there”

He laughed,  
“And I have Iron girl to protect me, so I guess there’s nothing to be afraid of”

“I’m not so sure about that superhero name,” The way you scrunched your nose was way too adorable for your own good, Peter concluded. “We’re gonna have to keep working on that…”

“Wow! Look at that, that’s incredible!”

You follow Peter’s line of sight right to were the most famous landmark in the world was sparkling as if covered in a thousand stars.

“It’s like the world’s bigger Christmas tree!”

… Or that, you guessed.

There were very few views in the world more beautiful than the Eiffel tower at night. The naked awe in Peter Parker's face illuminated by the tower lights as he gazed upon it, was one of them.

A soft yapping sound took you both out of your respective reveries. A couple of Pit bull puppies had seemingly escaped their leashes and we’re running around one of the entrances.

“Aww, look! It’s puppy love!” You declared as one of the puppies licked at the other's snout.

Peter laughed.

“Do you think that was their first kiss?” He wondered, “They do look kind of nervous and over exited about each other…”

You smiled,

“I wish my first kiss had been like that”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, in Paris, under the Eiffel tower lights on a full moon evening?” You explained, “Mine wasn’t nearly as romantic”

Peter seemed to get lost in thought.  
You nudged at him with your shoulder.

“What about you? What was your first kiss like?”

He seriously considered lying, he really didn’t want you to know how much of a looser he was, and he also kinda wanted to impress you. But you had been nothing but sincere and natural and open with him the whole night, the least you deserved was his honesty.

“I never-… I mean, I haven’t… kissed anyone… yet.”

You blinked.

“Never? Really?”

“Really really” He confirmed and even under the soft light you could tell he was blushing furiously.

You didn’t know what possessed you next. Possibly the same brand of insanity that drove you to take your father’s jet in the first place, but that was neither here nor there as you slowly, very slowly like him at the gardens, took a step towards him and whispered,

“Close your eyes”

He couldn’t have disobeyed your command even if he had wanted to, it was like some strange gravitational phenomenon, or maybe an electromagnetic one: The closer you were, the stronger the pull to get even closer, and the stronger your power over him. He closed his eyes but he was quite obviously unnerved, the tension clear on his shoulders. You laced your finger with his and squeezed his hand a little, and he relaxed immediately at your touch. He licked his lips instinctively and that was your undoing, you finally pressed your lips softy to his, and the universe burst into colors behind your eyelids. It was sweet, and gentle and everything a first kiss was supposed to be. 

And you actually had no recollection of any other person you had kissed before; because they were inconsequential, no one had ever made you feel anything like this, warming you up from the inside, making you dizzy with want. It was stronger than any whiskey you might or might not had sneaked from your father’s bar. You stood there, drinking each other for some minutes, or maybe some centuries, you weren’t sure. Everything beyond Peter’s lips on yours had lost its meaning.

When you finally parted, Peter rested his forehead in yours, breathless and refusing to have to let go of you completely.

“How was that for a first kiss?” You asked under your breath. Peter smiled, leaning in once again.

“It was perfect” He replied against your lips, “Absolutely perfect.”

The End.


End file.
